Falling

Chapter Four

TW// self harm, suicide, depression

Harry's pov

"The thing that bothers me is this. I didn't ask to be born, and I'm being forced to stay alive. Where is my choice? I understand taking other people's lives is obviously wrong, but why can't I make that choice for my own life?" I look at my lap, not wanting to make eye contact with the therapist. "Instead of going peacefully, I wake up here. Somewhere I don't want to be, and I didn't get that choice. I don't think it's fair."

The therapist nodded and opened his mouth to speak but I shook my head. "I don't want to hear your response... this is all bullshit. I just want you to listen."

He nodded. I was sure he was hoping to do some goal setting or talk more about my past, hear the reasons for my thought, but I didn't want to do that.

"Are we done now?" I asked, really wanting to leave. My arms were itching and I just needed to get out of there.

"I suppose so, if you don't have anything else you'd like to talk about?"

I shook my head, getting up. Without a word, I left the room, heading for my own.

I hate this stupid fucking place.

•

I knew I shouldn't.

Well, actually, it didn't matter. The doctors and nurses would tell me I shouldn't, but they're not in my head. They're not me.

Biting my lip, I rolled my sleeve up, and twisted one of the stitches between my fingers. I took a deep breath, bracing myself.

Then, I tugged.

It hurt like hell. But what's it matter? Everything hurts anyway.

I wasn't sure why I was doing this, not really. I just wanted to feel something, something that would distract me from the thoughts going through my mind.

The pain kept my focus on one thing, and one thing alone. I was stuck in such a trance that I didn't even hear the footsteps behind me.

I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and nearly jumped out of my skin. "What the fu-" I didn't even finish my sentence when I saw it was Louis behind me standing there.

For some reason it hurt me to see his sad face. I didn't really care about what anyone thought of me, but Louis was somehow different. Looking at him now, I felt like I'd let him down. I'd never felt like that before, and I didn't like it. Not at all.

"Louis... I-" tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn't cry right now. Fuck, why was I about to cry?

"Harry... shh you don't need to explain yourself right now. Let's get your arms taken care of, okay? Can I help you up?" His accent was thick, and his voice was calm and soothing.

I nodded wordlessly, and let Louis hold my waist to help me up. I was grateful he didn't try to pull me up by grabbing my hands, my arms were burning from the way I'd ripped the stitches out.

He helped me onto my bed, and immediately put on some gloves, grabbing some things from the supply cart he'd been wheeling around out in the hall.

"Okay, this is going to sting a bit," Louis said as he opened up an alcohol wipe, "I'm so sorry, but try to stay still."

It stung more than 'a bit', but this was my own fault so I didn't say anything about that.

Louis was quiet as he started fixing up the stitches, getting new ones in place.

I didn't know what compelled me to do so, but I decided to break the silence. "Have you ever wanted to die?"

Louis didn't seem phased at all by the question, just kept doing what he was doing. "I can't say that I have," he said casually. "But, I can see how a lot of people might. Life can be pretty tough sometimes."

Louis was treating this like a normal conversation. He wasn't taking notes, wasn't asking tough questions, he was just talking. It was wonderful.

"You can say that again," I mumbled, watching as his nimble fingers threaded the stitches. "Sometimes you're going through the hardest shit imaginable, and other times everything's so mundane in the most depressing way."

He nodded, briefly looking up at me and making eye contact.

"And like, all of us on the "pursuit of happiness" or whatever, but I've never once considered myself as someone chasing after joy. I just want to find contentment, you know?"

He nodded, "I think I get what you're saying. You just want to be at a point where life feels like it's okay?"

"Yes, exactly that." I sighed, "and I know for a fact that that's not going to happen for me."

"No?" He responded, not asking why, just.. asking.

"Mhm. It's like, I've seen too much of the bad... I don't think there's enough good that could even make up for it. The world is a sad place, and I'm just not okay with it."

"There is a lot of bad," Louis agreed. "I've seen a lot too... surely not as much as you, but so many of the patients I see carry pieces of pain and stories of how cruel the world can be."

"Well, how do you deal with it? How can you see all that and still have the will to continue living?" I couldn't wrap my brain around the idea of being okay amidst all the negativity, fear, and hate of this world.

"It's not easy, but I guess I just try to live for the hope that things can change," he told me, bandaging up my arm. "I think if I can do something kind or make someone smile each day, the world is a little less dark. And that's what keeps me going."

I wanted to be him in that moment. I wanted to see the world through his (beautiful) eyes, and understand the feeling of making someone smile. "Well, you can say you've met your quota for today then. You've been kind to me and made me smile."

He grinned, his eyes were so bright and hopeful. "Well, I'm hoping tomorrow I can make you smile again."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I arranged that art class, if you want to participate." He said softly.

I nearly cried, he'd followed through with that. It hadn't been an empty gesture or a pity suggestion. "I'd love to participate."

Hey guys! I know this chapter was kind of a lot, but I tried to end it on a bit of a happier note. Hope you're all doing well 💛
-Stella